


Why do you never listen to the people who love you?

by notebooksandlaptops



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, Getting Together, Kaer Morhen, Love Confessions, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Protective Jaskier | Dandelion, ah such is life, and a moody daughter, and instead he ended up with two bickering spouses, arguing turned to love confessions, geralt just wanted a quiet life with his horse, post season one, what a fucking good trope that is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:47:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25954726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notebooksandlaptops/pseuds/notebooksandlaptops
Summary: Yennefer threw up her hands, exasperation and annoyance in every taut muscle of her body, “what, exactly, is the matter? I can take care of myself, Julian, far better than you can.”“It’s dangerous—”“Our whole lives are dangerous. If she has information that could help us—”“It’s an unnecessary risk—”“You wouldn’t be the one risking it—”“For fucks sake Yennefer, why do you never fucking listen to the people who fucking love you?”-///-Or, after Yennefer receives a letter from Tissaia bidding her to go back to Aratuza, Jaskier gets protective, wonders why he's so protective and then realises exactly what Yennefer means to him. Geralt is done with their drama.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Jaskier | Dandelion/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 22
Kudos: 343





	Why do you never listen to the people who love you?

Once upon a time, Jaskier had tailed after a witcher and found himself bundled up in a life of death and destiny, heroics and heartbreak. His twenties and thirties were spent seeking fame, glory and a conditioner that would successfully rid Geralt’s hair of monster guts. When he’d write home to his sisters he’d tell them that nobody on the whole continent had a life as hard or rewarding as the one he lived as the White Wolfs barker.

In retrospect, his twenties and thirties had been a goddamn piece of cake compared to the shit show that was travelling with not only a Witcher, but a tiny bundle of possible-world-destroying-power wrapped up inside a moody teenager, and a murderous sorceress Jaskier trusted about as far as he could throw her.

Or—okay, alright, so maybe he _did_ trust Yennefer, now. He could admit that first impressions weren’t all they were chocked up to be. After all, Geralt’s first impression of him involved an eighteen-year-old slip of a thing with bread in his pants, singing about abortions and flirting _dreadfully._

Yennefer though…

Well. She wasn’t all stab-stab, threaten-threaten that she had been when he’d woken up on her bed the first time they met.

If he was being a poet (which of course, he always was), he’d say Yennefer was like the deepest of oceans; sometimes calm on the surface, sometimes rough, unexplored, deadly, powerful and yet undeniably beautiful.

Still, right now, she was being a real _bitch._

“This is a _fucking set up_ ,” Jaskier hissed.

Yennefer and Geralt rolled their eyes. Goddamn lovers getting more and more goddamn like each other every single day. It would be nice if Geralt would take on some of _his_ characteristics for once – he was _also_ Geralt’s lover, after all. (Which, yeah, it had taken them a while to figure out how their weird little love triangle would work, but now it _did_ work, and sometimes, on the rare occasions he and Yennefer were feeling particularly horny, it could even gift them the most _wonderful_ of threesomes).

“It’s not,” Yennefer insisted, “It’s Tissaia. I trust her with my life.”

“Oh yes, the woman who _bought you for less than a fucking pig was worth_ and _turned your classmates into eels._ She’s a real trustworthy sort.” Jaskier’s fingers were clenched into fists. He was _good_ at talking people around to his point of view, but apparently, his words were going to be piss all help here.

Yennefer’s eyes flashed, anger, annoyance, probably regret at having opened up to anyone – let alone _Jaskier_ – in the first place. “My childhood is none of your business, Bard.”

“Of fucking _course_ it is, when you’re not seeing things clearly. Nilfguard is in with half of Aratuza’s lot, Tisanna went missing after Soddem Hill, you’re widely known to be helping to protect the one girl the whole _continent_ is after and then, out of the blue, a summons from your wicked-stepmother shows up for you to go back to that godawful place.”

The letter sat on Geralt’s bed, neat flowing script hiding what Jaskier was sure was a nefarious intent.

“If you badmouth her again, Jaskier, I’ll rip out your tongue,” Yennefer was lounged back on the bed as if she was bored, simply humouring the too-worked up bard, the decision to go already made.

Well, this was one decision they _weren’t_ leaving him out of. He wasn’t a third wheel to their little tale of destiny, not anymore. He was _in it._ Even if he was just a bard. Which meant he got a _say._

“Both of you are just restless after being cooped up at Kaer Morhen for so long,” Jaskier accused.

Geralt grunted, finally weighing in, “Jaskier, trust Yennefer to know what she’s talking about, please. It would simply be a meeting. It’s not like she’s taking Ciri with her.”

“You _always_ take her side.”

“Jealous, bardling?” Yennefer raised an eyebrow.

“He likes my mouth around his cock as well as yours, sorceress,” Jaskier quipped right back.

Geralt closed his eyes and let out a small groan. Sometimes, Jaskier found it amusing that a man who – twenty years ago – had claimed to only love his horse, was now saddled with not one but _two_ relationships, with _two_ bickering adults and a child to boot.

For a moment there was silence. Jaskier paced. The others kept to the bed.

The thing was that, well, he didn’t know Tissaia and maybe she really was a lovely woman. Even with all Yennefer’s stories spilt over good wine, Jaskier knew Yennefer liked the woman, perhaps even saw her as a parental figure. But this was an unnecessary risk. Yennefer was powerful, but anyone could fall ill to an ambush if they weren’t expecting it...

Yennefer might be immortal, but only if she wasn’t killed before she got to see out her eternity. The idea of that roaring fire that shone in those purple eyes disappearing, face lax and empty of life…

“You can’t go,” Jaskier said, finally, trying to sound decisive.

Yennefer threw up her hands, exasperation and annoyance in every taut muscle of her body, “what, exactly, is the matter? I can take care of myself, Julian, far better than you can.”

“It’s dangerous—”

“Our whole lives are dangerous. If she has information that could help us—”

“It’s an unnecessary risk—”

“You wouldn’t be the one risking it—”

“For fucks _sake_ Yennefer, why do you never fucking _listen_ to the people who fucking _love you_?”

The quiet that fell seemed, somehow, louder than the shouted confession that had just ripped itself from Jaskier’s throat.

Geralt had sat up, just slightly, glancing between them like he wasn’t sure if he was going to have to pull them apart.

Yennefer was glaring at Jaskier still, but Jaskier had known her long enough now for the slight opening of her mouth to betray his shock.

And Jaskier…

Well. He hadn’t meant to fucking say that now, had he?

It was Yennefer. It was _Yennefer._ Geralt loved her – for whatever godforsaken reason – but Jaskier found her…troublesome, that was all. Of course, circumstance had pushed them together, and their bickering _could_ be quite fun, he supposed, and she was _excellent_ in bed, and when they shared intimate stories of their youths over wine Jaskier felt so relaxed and safe and—

_Holy fucking shit._

He was fucking _in love with Yennefer._

Well. That was unexpected.

Why, oh _why_ did his life have to always be so _complicated?_

“Oh, so you love me now, do you, Bard?” Clearly, Yennefer had regained some of her composure in the time it had taken for Jaskier to work out that he was fucking in _love with her._ Clearly, she had also decided Jaskier was kidding, or that it was some kind of joke.

Jaskier dropped his head for a minute, stared at the floor. He could play it off as a joke. That would probably be the easier thing to do. But it would also just end up a complicated tangle of lies and secrets. He’d done the pining thing for Geralt for _decades._ He had no desire to repeat that experience.

“Apparently, yeah, I do. And if you were killed before I got a chance to show you how much, then I’d be really fucking _pissed._ ”

More silence.

Jaskier had never liked silence.

“Look, forget I said anything, alright, I just don’t want you to go so if we could do this some other way then—”

Yennefer had crawled off the bed.

And was stalking towards him.

Oh great.

Maybe she was about to stab him.

“You’re an imbecile” she muttered, and then, quite improbably, she kissed him.

Oh.

_Oh._

Jaskier let his arms wrap around her slight frame, dragging her closer, desperate, he was oh so fucking desperate, because this damn _woman_ had made him fall in love with her and then – like everyone Jaskier seemed to be in love with – decided the best way to go forward was to put herself in harm's way.

“I’ll be fine,” she murmured, pulling back. “Tissaia…I trust her, Julian. Do you think I would go if I was leaving Ciri to be raised by you two? She’d turn out a right mess.”

“Hey!”

Yennefer smirked, before her gaze turned serious again, “I’ll come back.”

Jaskier swallowed. She’d go. She wasn’t the kind of person you could corral into doing anything, and she’d made up her mind. “I know. But if you didn’t have an idiot human worrying about you two, you’d never take precautions.”

From behind him, Jaskier felt a warm body press against his back. _Geralt._ He leant back into it. Jaskier looked to Yennefer, “Let me guess, he’s got his confused-but-horny face on?”

“He _did_ just watch us kiss,” Yennefer murmured, “and he’s so _very_ into both of us. We could probably get him off just by letting him watch us go at it.”

Geralt grunted, buried his face into Jaskier’s shoulder. Jaskier laughed, some of the tension easing from his shoulders.

“I have a few hours before I have to go,” Yennefer offered.

It was Jaskier’s turn to smirk, “Well. I think there’s plenty we can get up to in that time.”

Yennefer’s laugh was beautiful, and oh so _alive,_ Geralt warm behind him, lips beginning to kiss at Jaskier’s throat.

Fuck, he loved them both, so much.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been spending the day doing some writing warm-up's to get me back into my flow after taking a break for a few weeks. This is the first of those, and the muse wanted Yenskier content, so that's what you be getting. 
> 
> Come hang out with me on Tumblr for drabbles, writing and general witchering [@Jaskier-wearing-dresses](https://jaskier-wearing-dresses.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Toss a comment/kudos to your tired fanfic writer?


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